THE CLINTON HISTORIANTown of ClintonHistorical Society

V o lum e XXXIII , Number 2 • Craig Marshal l , Edi tor , 242-5879 • June 20 20

Est. 1975

A Special Message from Cynthia Koch, President

Photo by John C.

I write this in the hope that you and your loved ones are well as we continue to do our best to contain the coronavirus pandemic. In Dutchess County the number of cases is

approaching four thousand and we mourn the loss of 137 of our neighbors. The numbers continue to rise, but fortunately not as sharply as a month ago. In Clinton we are fortunate to have only a few cases, but this does not mean COVID-19 has not impacted our lives in profound ways. That is why the Historical Society decided to publish a special issue of our newsletter devoted to the experiences of people in Clinton during the pandemic. I hope it helps bring us together as a community during a time when we must physically isolate from one another. I also hope it will record for future generations some of our experiences during this uncertain time. People generously shared with us how they have spent their time during the past two-plus months: working on their houses, homeschooling their children, missing contact with grandparents, and (most improbably) starting a new business. Others are sheltering “refugee” relatives who are staying here to escape the hazards of infection closer to New York City. Some responses are poetic and reflective, some are funny, and all of them show a spirit

of resilience and a willingness to do what it takes to get through this pandemic together—even as we stay apart. All the Historical Society’s normal programming is on hold for the time being. We may try to have the Tag Sale on Labor Day weekend, and if we can come up with an innovative way to have the Progressive Dinner—suggestions are welcome—we can recoup some of the revenue we are losing. We hope to be able to deliver our First Friday history programs electronically. Our annual meeting and election of officers and trustees was postponed this year; the 2019 Board and officers have graciously agreed to continue serving through 2020. I thank all those who contributed to this newsletter. I am especially grateful to Sandra Opdycke, who presented what may well prove to be our only First Friday program of the year—her March talk on the 1918 Spanish Flu, which was prescient at the time. Now it is even more relevant and she agreed to include her reflections on the current pandemic in the lead story for this special issue. From our home on Willow Lane, my husband Eliot Werner and I wish you health and patience as we continue through this crisis as a community.

CORONAVIRUS PANDEMIC: SPECIAL ISSUE

NEWS & NOTESMembers are encouraged to submit

information of interest to the Society at large. Please send your emails to us

c/o craigmarshall266@aol.com.

∑

Board of TrusteesCynthia Koch, president

Craig Marshall, vice presidentCathy McMahon, secretaryFrank McMahon, treasurer

Carol BurnsRise Cross

Marge FountainSamantha Karchmer

Rich Morse Mary Jo Nickerson

Lisa Noval Jim Pellegrino

Glenda Schwarze∑

Friend us on Facebook atClinton Historical Societyand follow us on Instagram,clinton_historical_society.

Clinton Historical Society is a not-for-profit organization established to preserve, maintain, promote, and educate on matters of historical

significance and interest in the Town of Clinton and Dutchess County.

Newsletter Team: Craig Marshall, Judith Grabowski, Trip Sinnott, and Eliot Werner.

Membership† 2020 DUES ¢Your CHS membership is important. Your address label on this newsletter

shows the most recent year of paid dues.

Student ...........................$10 Individual .......................$20 Family ............................$35 Friend .............................$75 Donor ..........................$150 Patron ..........................$250 Benefactor ....................$500 Visionary ...................$1,000 Life ............................$5,000

Please make checks payable to:Clinton Historical Societyand mail to: PO Box 122

Clinton Corners, NY 12514

Sandra Opdycke Remembering the 1918 Flu Pandemic

The 1918 flu pandemic began in February, during the final year of World War I. After an outbreak at a Kansas military base, wartime traffic took the virus all over the country and then all over the world. This mild first wave died down in June.

But in August a much fiercer second wave emerged; that was when most of the flu deaths occurred. The third wave began in November and ended in the winter of 1919. The pandemic’s global death toll is estimated to have been 50–100 million people. In the United States, there were 675,000 deaths—more than all the American soldiers who died in combat in all the wars of the 20th century. How is our pandemic today like 1918? Like the flu, COVID-19 is a respiratory virus and therefore easy to catch. Also, as happened with the flu in 1918, infected people are contagious before they show any symptoms. This is the reason for masks and gloves and public closings, just as it was in 1918. How is our pandemic not like 1918? The biggest difference is the fact that the 1918 pandemic happened in wartime. Therefore soldiers were packed together in barracks and trenches and troopships, while supply ships and laborers traveled back and forth between Europe and the rest of the world, picking up the virus and spreading it further. The war also affected public closings on the home front. While most communities closed social gathering places, as we have done, they generally kept workplaces and public transportation open. Another way 1918 was different was the fact that young adults were hit harder than any other age group. This helps explain why 43,000 American soldiers died of flu during the war, almost as many as died in combat. What can we learn from 1918? The first lesson is that public closings do make a difference. Although the 1918 closings were more limited than ours, the cities that began them promptly—and kept them going until the danger was really over—did have fewer deaths. Furthermore, the pandemic’s third wave was clearly sparked by the abrupt reopening of public spaces in the jubilation over the end of World War I. Here is one more lesson. For all our troubles, we have been lucky so far. Over the course of the 1918 pandemic, about 25 percent of all the world’s population caught the flu. So far this time, the prevalence is about 1 percent. But let’s remember: it wasn’t the first wave of the 1918 that made history—it was the second. We want to do everything we can to avoid a second major wave in 2020.

2

3

Margaret Pierpont

In early March, when news of the contagion became urgent and our lives rapidly contracted, I started to take a photo of the sky to the east of our house every morning

when I got up. So much seemed unstable and unknown in those first few weeks. Taking that picture reminded me that the world was still turning and my husband and I were still here.

As March and April slowly passed, I shot many images of gray skies that looked more or less the same. Variations like a red-streaked dawn or a looming purple storm jumped out from the rows of photos on my phone. Our weeks, too, developed predictable patterns of meals, walks, meetings on Zoom. In our isolation Governor Cuomo’s daily briefing was a lifeline. His trustworthy leadership made us proud to be New Yorkers. On the rare days when we ventured out for groceries, armed with disinfectant wipes and eventually with masks, the change was exciting and the reality unnerving. We were simultaneously hungry for contact with people and anxious about lingering any longer than our errands required.

By mid-May my photo project was on automatic pilot. Our new-normal routines were getting familiar. With summer coming the absence of social life seemed especially strange, yet I am in no hurry to relinquish the quiet and solitude. I like the way our alertness to social distance has made us more patient and more aware of how we move through the world.

Chandler StolarskiInterviewed by Craig Marshall

When asked if he has experienced a significant impact from the COVID-19 safeguards, Chandler Stolarski, 21, replied, “When I go to visit my 84-year-old grandmother now, she won’t let me in her house. I have to meet her at the front door, which she opens, and then we have to talk through the screen door. No hugs! Bummer!” Chandler was recently hired as an EMT for the West Clinton Fire Department and is shown sitting on their engine #71-11 with his guitar (which he began playing at age 10). He also plays banjo and is learning violin. In addition to his work at the WCFD, Chandler serves as a fireman for the Salt Point Volunteer Fire Company.

Joann and Dave Schmidt

A t first we were concerned when we heard the distant sirens but they kept

coming, louder, and fading and louder and then we heard the honking horns—and finally it dawned on us that there was a parade (i.e. Drive-by Celebration) happening.

How dear of East Clinton Fire Department to think of helping us remember how we patriotic neighbors remember and celebrate Memorial Day year after year.

They came up with this great idea of sharing Memorial Day’s meaning with everyone in the ECFD area in spite of the statewide coronavirus restrictions. We hope some of them saw us waving as they passed along Shadblow Lane. We had only just returned from our annual snowbird winter in Florida, so this was an extra special moment for us. What a treat to have this celebration gift! Many thanks to our fire and rescue folks.

(Editor s Note: Both ECFD and WCFD offered “Drive- by Celebrations” for childrenʼs birthdays during the time of social distancing and restrictions on size of gatherings.)

4

Merida Welles

It starts with a patch of lime green mold just outside my dining room window. I fetch a bucket, scrubbing brush, Tilex, and rubber gloves. TV news drones in the background.

COVID-19 infection rates mount globally . . .I dip my brush into the warm soapy water, reach for the wall, and scrub. The mold melts away. I step back to inspect. The newly cleaned white paint has magnified the surrounding grime.

Medical staff lacks PPE, schools close . . .Beyond my reach, more unsightly patches of mold and grime. I haul over a stepladder.

Hospitals are overwhelmed . . .I climb the ladder, balancing brush and bucket, and scrub. Hard.

Deaths soar in retirement homes . . .Scouring a Victorian farmhouse is my mental escape. I’m lucky: I’m retired and isolated with my husband.

Unemployment numbers hit records . . .Once the walls shine brightly, the chipped, paint-puckered window frames beg for attention. Out come the heat gun and paint scrapers. To Amazon Prime for new electric sanders, caulk, 40-Grit sandpaper.

The homeless shelter in subways . . .Hours a day, many days, weeks pass. One window frame torched and sanded, seven more to go. And two overpainted Victorian front doors. My tools are therapeutic.

Meatpacking plants shutter, retailers file for bankruptcy . . .I scrape and sand. The pine window trim has been released from shrouds of old paint. It’s smooth and still warm under my hand. Its historic beauty will be restored after careful priming and painting.

It may take years more to complete. Just like the virus . . .

Early March 2020 forced major changes in town government due to the

COVID-19 virus.

The doors were locked while the staff worked mostly at home and did not spend much time in the office. To further complicate the situation, the court was also closed. These actions were required by the governor’s executive orders. Communications with the public were through telephone calls, emails, regular mail, and a drop box on the Town Hall porch. With the staff in the office at different times, it was difficult for town employees to respond quickly to inquiries from the public.

Meetings were a new challenge since we could not meet in groups. We all had to learn to use Zoom and other programs to hold meetings —an interesting experience. The regular Town Board meetings were on Zoom and the live broadcasts were on YouTube. Other meetings were held only on Zoom.

With this shutdown of government, town revenues were greatly reduced (by as much as 50 percent) from declines in sales taxes, mortgage taxes, vehicle and traffic fines (due to fewer vehicles on the road), building permits, and other sources. Additionally there was much discussion on the viability of holding children’s summer camp and swimming in the park, both of which were canceled for the summer. The Highway Department worked half crews on alternating weeks to keep the roads in repair and clear trees from the storms.

As we move into Phase 1 of the reopening, we don’t anticipate any changes in town government.

(Editor s Note: Ray Oberly is the Clinton Town Supervisor.)

Ray Oberly

clintonhistoricalsociety.org

Shopping Chronicleby Lisa Noval

Items not available: 3/9/2020 Week 1 – Toilet paper, paper towels, chicken, chop meat Week 2 – Rubbing alcohol, napkins Week 3 – Sugar, flour, disinfecting wipesWeek 4 – Bisquick, Heinz ketchup

4/6/2020Week 5 – Found most things – disinfecting wipes are still elusive. Wearing masks and rubber gloves is suggested.

Week 6 – Yeast Wearing masks is mandated. Most stores have one-way aisles and plexiglass shielding cashiers. Six-feet social distancing signs are everywhere. Some stores have counters at the entrance, limiting the number of people in the store.

Week 7 – KC Masterpiece barbecue sauce, vanilla (if I wanted to spend about $20 an ounce, I could have bought special Madagascar vanilla—I didn’t) Used masks and rubber gloves are found littered in many parking lots.

Week 8 - Elastic, white cotton fabric Many people do not notice (or care) about one-way aisles.

5/3/2020Week 9 – Tuna, frozen broccoli, Morning Star Farms veggie burgers.

Week 10 – By now I was able to find most of the above items if I shopped earlier in the day.

Week 11 – Pepperoni, hard salami

5/21/2020– Elastic and KC Masterpiece BBQ sauce still elude me

Note: This is not a complete list of items that were in shortage. It is just a list of the things I was looking for during a particular week. I can’t complain too much—I don’t even like KC Masterpiece BBQ sauce!

5

On March 19 my niece Catherine (Cat) called me to ask if she could come

up and quarantine in one of my cottages. She lives in northern Westchester County but works in Mount Vernon (about as close to New York City as you can get without going there). There were no boundaries in the office—for example, her boss thought nothing of shaking hands with someone who came into the office and social distancing was not always possible.

After being laid off from her job, Cat moved into the cottage with her dog Ueli. She wanted to be in a place far away from the city where she and Ueli could have the freedom to not worry about crowds. Cat and Ueli spend a lot of time outdoors and although she’s happy up here (Ueli seems much happier too), Cat misses her friends.

She was also in a new relationship that has been put on hold due to social distancing and self-isolation.

At the end of April, my nephew Lucien called and asked if he could move into one of the cottages. He was living at home and working in Elmsford. Shopping for food or other necessities was stressful due to long lines, crowded stores, and many out-of-stock items. He wanted his own space (indoors and out) for isolation. He is able to work remotely several days a week and is happy to be away from the crowds. However, he has a girlfriend who lives in Brooklyn whom he has not been able to see for almost two months. He sees the anxiety and depression that come from being isolated in the city.

Cat and Lucien feel very fortunate that they are able to escape to such a beautiful place. They say that being up here it’s easy to forget there is a pandemic. When New York State is back to work, Cat will return to her job and Lucien will continue to work remotely several days a week. However, they both plan to continue living in Dutchess County!

Lisa Noval

Dottie Distel

This handsome dog is Bentley Distel, who is very pleased to be a member

of the Town of Clinton community. He was rescued after a tough start in Kentucky. When he came here in 2016, Bentley was recovering from heartworm, starvation, and a history of gunshot wounds with three BBs tucked into his sides.

“Dr.” Bentley acknowledges that he never received his medical diploma. However he dressed to honor the medical personnel on the front lines during the pandemic.

6

John C. and Tom W.

Springtime 2020 on Willow Lane unwrapped the familiar and

unexplored for us as a collage. The suffering and suspension that we could see through media felt so dominant and yet so distant from daily experience. We left the house by car

barely once a week. Our daily walks brought us a close look at nature and sometimes a chance meeting with our great neighbors for socially distant hellos. We had time for the unexplored—making homemade pasta from scratch, marking morning singing patterns of birds perched outside the window, and witnessing for the first time the flowering from bud to blossom of cherry trees planted seven years ago.

Hiroko & Buzz BeitchmanO Hana Mi During The Pandemic

In Japan since the 8th century, O Hana Mi (“Flower Watching”) during the blooming of the Ume (plum) and Sakura (cherry) trees,

it is traditional to sit under the beautiful (but short-lived) blossoms and contemplate the ethereal and temporary nature of life. Of course this is done with an accompaniment of much good food and copious drink. The current situation being an excellent circumstance for contemplating our temporary existence, we found a beautiful blooming Sakura on Mountain View Road, well separated from any dwellings or persons. And there we did O Hana Mi while enjoying a delightful lunch.

clintonhistoricalsociety.org7

Jenny and Craig Cavallo

In the universe’s inherent sense of bad timing, we purchased the former Schultzville General Store on March 1, 2020, just as

the pandemic was becoming a reality. But we have found a silver lining in these fraught times. As a new business (we opened in July 2019), one of our long-term goals was to become a reliable hub for groceries. As the lockdown has progressed, we have noticed that we’re moving more quickly through our grocery and alcohol inventories. Our guests are beginning to share the vision we had in setting out to do this.

The influx of guests in the store made us worried for our own safety and that of the community. We could only provide so long as we stayed healthy ourselves, so with that in mind we decided to offer window service only in mid-March. Our patrons have graciously accepted the change and continue to support us.

Part of the bigger picture, and the recent activity we tackled and are most excited about, are six apple trees we planted in the backyard at the end of April. The trees are partly representative of the region’s apple history, but also integral to the vision we have for our store’s future.

Pandemic aside, we have always considered what our future looks like at the Golden Russet Cafe & Grocery. In a perfect world we will raise a family and run the store until we retire, our roots will grow a little deeper each year, and we’ll become a stronger part of the community. Maybe the disruptive realities of a global pandemic have brought people to our store quicker than might have otherwise been the case. Whether this is true or not, we remain incredibly grateful to have found such a supportive community.

Michael Whitton

I have three sons, ranging from 8 to 14 years old and second through ninth grades. On March 12 we were informed by their

schools that the next day would be the last day of school for two weeks and a system for distance learning would be set up. Two weeks turned into four weeks, and four weeks turned into eight weeks. Eventually the schools were closed for the rest of the year, with distance learning through June 12—thirteen weeks in total. I think every parent has experienced this differently. Some parents have continued going to work, while others are home. In my case my small business has come to a complete standstill and my wife has been working forty hours a week from home. Naturally the home schooling duties fell to me, allowing Johanna to work (mostly) undisturbed. The older boys have been self-sufficient, using tools like Google Classroom to complete their work. The second grader needs more help and guidance but has done very well with the change. It is a testament to the human spirit to see how teachers, parents, and children are working through this strange time of a worldwide pandemic. Within one week teachers were posting videos of their lessons in math, grammar, and reading. There are weekly Zoom sessions focusing on reading comprehension. We take photos of completed homework and email them to the teacher for grading. On most days we spend about three hours on active learning—comparable to a normal school day as far as I can tell. In the end the hardest part for my kids is what has also been hardest for adults. Family time is valuable but all kids like to play with their friends and go to parks and movies on the weekend. My kids love to spend time with their grandparents. As for myself, I worry that my children are being traumatized in some way. They can see and feel that this is a scary time, and comprehending what is going on is not so easy for the young ones. All we can do is reassure them that this will pass, as all things do. We must do what is being asked of us to keep everyone healthy, knowing that all the effort will pay off.

TOWN OF CLINTON HISTORICAL SOCIETYPO BOX 122

CLINTON CORNERS, NY 12514

This illustration, created at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), reveals ultrastructural morphology exhibited by coronaviruses. Note the spikes that adorn the outer surface of the virus, which impart the look of a corona surrounding the virion, when viewed electron microscopically. A novel coronavirus, named Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2), was identified as the cause of an outbreak of respiratory illness first detected in Wuhan, China, in 2019. The illness caused by this virus has been named coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19).

Cynthia Koch

The saddest part of the coronavirus is the loss of loved ones—many of

them alone in hospitals during their final hours—and even for those who have not succumbed to the virus, it takes a toll on our communities. The national death toll from the virus recently exceeded 100,000, but the medical need for isolation and community distancing affects not only those who have perished from the virus. It has also added to the sorrow of families mourning loved ones who have died from other causes during the pandemic.

Passing During the Coronavirus

Judith (Schulhoff) Grabowski

On April 17, 96-year-old Dora Porfirio Schulhoff, a longtime resident of Clinton Corners, died at home surrounded by family. Dora lived in the white house across

the road from the Clinton Historical Society for 70 years, having moved in on Community Day 1950. She didn’t die from COVID-19, but due to the virus our grieving family could not mark her passing with a funeral or a church service.

Born at home in Staatsburg on August 6, 1923, Dora was the fifth and youngest daughter of Italian immigrants. She had a happy and loving childhood, even though her only brother Ned died from the 1918 flu pandemic at age 15 (“something Mama never got over,ˮ she wrote in her journal). She was close to her sisters, who spoiled her.

Dora married Jim Schulhoff and raised seven kids (Mary Jo, Gerald, Jane, James, John, Judith, and Jaye) with love, good food, and a hot temper. She liked to cook, bake, sing, dance, watch baseball, and do crossword puzzles. For decades she played cards weekly with her Clinton card club. She was a member of Home Bureau, a 4-H leader, and a St. Joseph’s Catholic Church parishioner. Dora worked part time for years in the Clinton Corners Post Office, retiring in 1992.

While homebound she kept an eye on the Creek Meeting House, reporting to my sister Mary Jo when the outdoor security light was off or the indoor red warning light was on. She loved hearing details of the Historical Society’s activities and reading the newsletter, and was proud that Mary Jo and I were trustees.

Travel bans prevented family from Virginia, Florida, North Carolina, and Oregon from coming together for a funeral. So on a cold rainy April morning only ten of us, wearing masks, gathered at the Friends Upton Lake Cemetery with Father Bancroft of St. Joseph’s Church for her burial. Afterward we ate spaghetti, meatballs, homemade bread, and chocolate-dipped strawberries. Mom would have loved the food.